


A Lifetime of Pain

by Shadowheart28



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt, M/M, Nico is alone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2017-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1001037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowheart28/pseuds/Shadowheart28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico Di Angelo barely escaped from Tartarus with his life -and his sanity - but the land of the living presents a whole new kind of pain. Namely in the form of one Son of Poseidon. Nico's journey from The Last Olympian to the Trials of Apollo.</p><p>WARNING SPOILERS</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Lifetime of Pain

**Author's Note:**

> I feel so bad for Nico. I can't even imagine how hard it must be for him to have to hide his feelings for Percy.

**_Disclaimer - I do not know the storyline or any of the characters._ **

**_Set during House of Hades. WARNING - CONTAINS SPOILERS._ **

* * *

**_Right from the start,_ **

**_You were a thief, you stole my heart._ **

**_And I, your willing victim._ **

* * *

Nico slammed his fist against the wall of his cabin and a wave of freezing cold radiated out from the point of impact. He _knew_ he shouldn't have agreed to stay with these people on this stupid quest. He _knew_ it.

It had been hard enough to watch, helpless, as Percy – bloody Percy – had fallen into Tartarus but now that he was back, it was even more painful to sit by and do nothing as he talked, laughed, held hands with Annabeth. _Annabeth._

Nico gritted his teeth. Even when faced with the Lord of Time, he had never known himself to feel so much hatred for one person. Hadn't the gods punished him enough? He had stared into the heart of the Abyss and lived _. But for what?_ He laughed – a short, hard sound – without humour.

Now he was in Greece with a group of people who feared him. Jason had told him that they would accept him for being…being…

He swore aloud. He couldn't even admit it to himself.

 _Hazel would understand._ A small voice whispered, echoing through his mind.

'No!' And his voice cracked. These days, he hardly ate, hardly slept – lest the nightmares threatened to catch hold of him, to not let go. Hazel was from the forties too, except that she had had even less time to adjust to the modern world. She would hate him, be revolted. He couldn't bear to lose another sibling – lose another sibling because of Percy Jackson.

At the thought of the son of Poseidon, Nico's heart clenched and a single tear tracked down his cheek, cutting through the grime that had caked itself on his face during the battle for the Doors of Death in Hades' Temple.

Thinking back to his showdown with Cupid in the palace of Diocletian, Nico cursed the winged god - hating how he had made him feel. He had been so scared, so ashamed to admit what he felt and that terrified him even more. He was a son of Hades – he was supposed to _cause_ fear.

'Damn you, Jackson.' And that was too much. Sobs wracked his thin frame as he sank to the floor, as the memories threatened to pull him under.

* * *

**_With every breath the pain gets worse,_ **

**_I didn't know that I could hurt this much._ **

**_What's broken once cannot be fixed,_ **

**_I love you, I hate you, my feelings are mixed._ **

* * *

A snow-bound cliff top, there had been three demi-gods but only one who had caught his eye. Percy Jackson – fearless, strong, the most amazing person he had ever seen in seventy years.

Next, a choking sadness as the same boy had told him about his sister's fate. That memory left him gasping, a pain as sharp as cut glass.

Then a sweltering day in Texas, a ranch of monsters and again – Percy Jackson. No matter how he tried, his past followed him, as heavy as Atlas's burden of the sky.

Darkness, pain, a river of fire. His memories of the son of Poseidon had been the only thing that had kept him going in the darkest place in hell. Had kept him fighting, kept him alive. Not even Hazel knew how many times he had come close to throwing himself on his own sword or just giving up in the middle of battle – if only to end the pain.

* * *

**_Old wounds reopened,_ **

**_Scars that will never heal._ **

**_Right now only the pain is real._ **

**_How come it's still working?_ **

**_After all it has been through._ **

* * *

A knock at the door broke through the haze of misery. Every muscle in his body shrieked in protest as he rose, scrubbing at his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and he hated himself for wishing that it was Percy standing there, holding his arms out… Nico muttered a string of obscenities under his breath in mixed Italian and Greek.

The door swung open to reveal Jason standing in the hallway. The son of Zeus wore an expression of concern and pity as he took in Nico's dishevelled appearance and bloodshot eyes.

'Hey, man, I thought you might want to…' he started but Nico pushed past him. Despite his being at least a foot shorter than the golden-haired boy, Jason flinched as he made to shove him away. _He's afraid of me._ Nico thought with vicious satisfaction, then immediately felt guilty. Jason had accepted him for who he was.

'Well you thought wrong.' A lifetime of bitterness filled his voice. He headed towards the top deck. He needed fresh air, needed to clear his head.

Leaving a confused and hurt Jason standing at the door to his cabin, Nico strode down the hall and as he walked, the shadows in the dimly lit passage seemed to cling to his body, creating a cloak of shadows for the son of Hades.

Even the soft ambiance of twilight stung his eyes as he reached the top deck. Leo was nowhere to be seen, probably tinkering with his Archimedes sphere in the control room or something. Piper and Frank chatted quietly by the main mast.

Nico spun around as he heard his sister's voice and started towards the sound before realising who she was with. Percy loped beside Hazel, his hand in Annabeth's, their fingers tangled. He felt like he had been cursed by the _arai again_ – crippling pain that made it feel like his chest was tearing in two, a final gift from one of the hundreds of monsters that he had killed during the battle of New York.

The son of Poseidon laughed at something his girlfriend had said, his head tipped back, sea green eyes flashing in the low light.

_Gods, those eyes._

Nico swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that had lodged itself in his throat. Annabeth said something else, glancing at Hazel and then back to Percy. She bumped her hip against his.

Why _Annabeth?_ He thought bitterly. Jealous, know-it-all, bossy _Annabeth?_

'Hey, Nico.' Crap, they had seen him. The trio reached him and he could feel the weight of their gazes on him. Annabeth spoke again, reached out to brush her fingers against his arm. 'Are you sure you'll be able to shadow-travel with the statue? I mean-'

 _'Yes._ ' Nico hissed, and it was as if all of Akhlys's poison had been distilled into his voice. 'And _don't_ touch me again.' With that, he spun away – Hazel forgotten.

He climbed up to the prow of the ship and gazed out onto the horizon. The last light of day turning it into a beautiful vista of pink and gold. A least up here no one could see the pain etched into his face, making him look far older than his fourteen years. No one could see the tears that burned his eyes, threatening to spill.

Furiously, he wiped them away with the back of his hand and ignored the voices calling up to him from the deck.

Once this quest was over – presuming he wasn't dead – he would disappear, forever. Perhaps he would live down in the Underworld with his father. Gods knew they had lifetime's worth of pain in common.

* * *

**_Shattered into pieces, by memories of you._ **

**_I don't think I can keep going,_ **

**_Hiding for so long,_ **

**_I do not think that my heart is that strong._ **

* * *

Nico watched as the sun set – turning the River Acheron the same emerald of the surrounding hills; the same colour as the eyes of the boy he loved.

* * *

**_I'm standing in the dark,_ **

**_She's dancing on the table._ **

**_I'm looking through the glass,_ **

_**You're someone else's angel.** _


	2. Heartbroken Insanity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like it. Sorry this isn't very good, I wrote it on a two hour bus journey! Poor Nico.  
> Please rate and review.

 

**When there is desire, there is gonna be a flame.**

**When there is a flame, someone’s bound to get burned.**

 

As soon as Favonius mentioned Cupid, all the blood drained from Nico Di Angelo’s face.

 _Nnonononono._ This wasn’t supposed to happen, he was just supposed to talk to a few ghosts, claim the sceptre and leave the Palace.

 Even after having met several gods and having been through _Tartarus_ for Hades sake, Cupid was probably the god that he feared the most. The deity of love and son of Aphrodite, Cupid probably already knew his secret. But that didn’t mean that he wanted to confess in front of Jason – son of Jupiter, ultimate golden boy.

His heart was beating double-time, stuttering and thumping with an emotion that had been all too familiar to him for the past couple of years – fear. A feeling that hadn’t left him since the first time he had run away from Camp Half Blood – an inherent terror that someone would find out his darkest secret and he would become even more isolated, cast out by even his own sister.

Nico was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that when the West Wind picked up him and Jason he was taken completely by surprise. Being carried as the wind was most disconcerting and he vowed never to repeat the experience.

 

_**No one sees when he is lying,** _

_**Heart still beating, but slowly dying.** _

_**As he walks the ragged edge, alone,** _

_**He tries to set his heart in stone.** _

Wait, Jason was speaking to Favonius.

‘…Until they meet him.’ A wave of freezing cold washed through the ruins of Salona, rushing around his ankles and making his bones ache. A whisper seemed to echo through the air and he thought that he could hear the faint beat of wings – even though the West Wind hadn’t so much as twitched. In fact, the god was unusually still.

That’s when he _knew_.

Choking fear rose up, tightening his throat and making the world spin. It was if he was breathing in broken glass instead of air. A step back and he felt a pillar against his spine.

Nowhere to run.

His legs trembled and it was all he could do to hold himself upright. The grass around his feet wilted and died, death leaching out from him, cursing the very ground he stood on. 

 _You’re a child of Hades_ , a small, cruel voice in his mind whispered. _Everything you touch will_ die.

‘Hey man…’ The sound of Jason’s voice snapped him back to reality – silencing the voice in his head, but he knew it was still there.

‘I’m fine.’ And his voice cracked. Even down in Tartarus, facing the heart of the Abyss, he had never felt such crushing, overwhelming terror.

**_You came to claim the sceptre._ **

The voice was deep, melodious and at once utterly beguiling and more dangerous than he could ever have imagined. Jason called out, glancing around wildly for the source of the voice. It seemed that the son of Jupiter didn’t like facing enemies that couldn’t be seen.

Nico almost laughed at that. What would he do if he could see inside his mind? Having to deal with the enemies that he had to fight just to stay standing for the weight of them?

Go insane probably. Gods knew he almost had. Even now, when faced with the one secret that could bring him to his knees – Nico could feel the thread of his sanity begin to unwind.

 

_**But for all he learns to fight and shield,** _

_**A single blow to the heart and he must yield.** _

_**A silver thread, starts to unwind,** _

_**He wonders if he's lost his mind.** _

 

A sudden, invisible blow smacked Jason across the courtyard, sending the older boy tumbling down a set of stairs. His head hit the concrete with a sickening thud. As he raced across the street to help him up, the voice rushed around his ears, mocking him.

 ** _Oh, you expect me to play fair?_** Cupid laughed ** _. I am the god of Love. I am_** never **_fair._**

And didn’t he know it. If Love was fair, it might have been kinder. Not so eager to make him fall for someone so far out of his league.

The god was toying with them now, firing arrows at the pair. The first Jason deflected, the second Nico managed to dodge, but the third found its mark, sinking into his sword arm – sending a bolt of pain lacing up to his shoulder.

Then the arrow dissolved, leaving no wound but a heavy, sinking feeling that burrowed into his bones and stayed there, leaching the fight out of him.

Jason was growing weaker too, and after being thrown into several pillars, Nico was surprised that he was still upright. But it was when Cupid finally threw the son of Jupiter into a wall that something inside him cracked – splinters spider-webbing out from the point of impact.

‘Leave him alone!’ His voice was hoarse and raw. ‘It’s me you want!’ And even though he couldn’t see the god, Nico could feel his eyes boring into him, searching the darkest reaches of his soul, seeing all of the hatred, the shame, the fear…

**_Poor Nico Di Angelo. My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. But you – what have you done in my name?_ **

‘I’ve been to Tartarus and back. You don’t scare me.’ He snarled, and every word cost him, another lie on his consciousness, another layer added to his armour.

**_Oh, I think I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest._ **

‘Give us the sceptre.’ Nico could feel the dead beneath his feet – centuries worth of skeletons awaiting his command, ready to protect him. His hands trembled and nightmare visions burned behind his eyelids; hordes of monsters, an overwhelming pain, death, so much death. Death, death, death ** _._** That’s all that there would ever be for a child of Hades. No love, no acceptance.

Cupid struck, throwing him sideways into a pillar. Rage boiled in his throat, a fire fuelled by shame and self-loathing. Hatred for what he felt, what he _was_.

 

**There's a thin line between steady and insane,**

**Nothing to lose, nothing to gain.**

**He dances solo on the knife's sharp edge;**

**The storm-tossed cliff-line,**

**The tempest's ledge.**

 

‘What does this guy _want_ from you?’ Jason’s voice was weak and he could see the confusion in his eyes.

 _He would hate me, mock me. They would abandon him. Oh gods,_ Percy _…_

 ** _Tell him,_** Cupid was laughing now, enjoying his pain. **_Tell him how you are a coward, afraid to face your feelings. Tell him why you ran away from Camp Half Blood. Why you’re always alone._**

A raw, primal scream clawed its way up his throat, full of rage and pain. The dead erupted from the ground, driven into a frenzy by his anger.

**_Will you hide among the dead as you always do?_ **

A wave of darkness and icy cold radiated from his thin frame, shaking him to the core. Nico watched with a sort of detached interest as memories flickered through his mind.

A black river rushing past, the Styx, a beach of crushed glass, unchecked terror that the son of Poseidon might not surface.

Stumbling through Persephone’s garden with its quicksilver trees and glowing gems like so many faceted fruits – Bianca, gone forever, she’d left him alone. _Alone_.

Pride as he saved the day, striding into battle with an army of the dead.

A rush of anger and passion as he watched two figures clinging to each other in a darkened courtyard.

Blue birthday cake…

Nico fell to his knees, gasping. He couldn’t, couldn’t give up his darkest secret. Too much pain, too much shame. His skeleton soldiers had the god pinned now, fuelled by their master’s misery.

**_Interesting! Do you have the strength after all?_ **

‘I left because of love.’ Not a lie, even better. ‘Annabeth…she…’

**_You’re still hiding. You do not have the strength._ **

‘Nico,’ Jason’s voice was barely more than a whisper. ‘I get it. It’s okay.’ He bowed his head, grief and misery etched into every line on his face.

‘You don’t understand.’ His voice was filled with bitterness. ‘No one understands.’

**_Will you run away from your friends? From yourself?_ **

‘I don’t have any friends! I’ll never fit in! I’ll always be alone!’ He was desperate now. Jason had guessed. Every breath was ragged, tearing his lungs and leaving him trembling.

 Then he realised, in the old myths, why Psyche had been so afraid, so desperate to know if her lover was a monster. Because love _was_ a monster, a being more terrible than anything than Hades could ever dream of. And monsters, he had faced.

‘I…wasn’t in love with Annabeth.’ Nico’s voice was a thread of utter pain, a whisper of grief.

‘You were jealous of her. It makes sense why you didn’t want to be around her and especially why you didn’t want to be around…him.’

_Broken._

Shattered into pieces, his soul was torn. Too long he had hidden his deepest fear, building up walls of resentment and shame. And now, among the ruins of this ancient city, finally admitting it gave him no relief, no feeling of closure.

Cupid’s voice had gone silent and looking up, he finally stared into the face of Love. Silky hair the colour of jet hung loose around a face that was too beautiful, too harsh to belong to any mortal being. A bow was slung over his shoulder and a pair of snowy white wings arched high over his head, creating a canopy that cast him in shadow from the Croatian sun. The god’s eyes were blood red, full of promises, curses and heartbreak. The winds rushed around him, whispering in languages too old to name. They told stories of lovers and pain and fear – everything that Cupid stood for.

‘I had a crush on Percy Jackson.’ Venom filled his voice, burning his tongue. ‘That’s the truth. That’s the big secret.’

_Are you happy now?_

**_Oh, I wouldn’t say that Love always makes you happy._** His voice was smaller now, more human. **_Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad. But at least you’ve faced it now. That’s the only way to conquer me._**

With that, the god of Love disappeared into the winds, leaving behind a feeling on infinite _nothingness._ A cavity that he knew that he could never fill.

Where the god had stood, a sceptre sat; a polished ball of obsidian on the backs of three golden eagles. Bending down to pick it up, every one of Nico’s bones screamed in protest. With a glare, he met Jason’s eyes, challenging him to say anything.

‘No one finds out.’ And his tone was final – laced with ice and steel.

The weight of silence had been lifted but had been replaced with a mantel of fear. Now that someone knew, his secret was no longer just his to bear and if Jason told the others, he did not think that he could stand it.

His hands were shaking as he took Jason’s and when the shadows washed over him, so did a faint sense of relief.

 

**It's hard to fight your demons**

**When you're fighting bound and blind.**

**It's hard to see the sunlight**

**When you're slowly losing your mind.**

If no one could see him, they couldn’t see the pain behind his eyes either.

 

**He’s the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,**

**The only one who’s got enough of me to break my heart.**


	3. The Son of Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for all of Nico Di Angelo's fans out there. 
> 
> We believe in Nico!!!

His eyes are filled with passion and mystery,  
His cloak is made from shadows,  
No one knows his history.  
And the sword that he wears,  
Is as black as a nightmare.

And yet he is lonely,  
Never been loved,  
As everyone is scared to come close,  
To the boy who can kill with one touch.  
Except for me, and until my last breath,  
I will love the son of Death.


	4. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter is up! I hope you guys like it!

**_Here we go, welcome to my funeral,_ **

**_Without you, I don’t even have a pulse._ **

**_All alone it’s dark and cold,_ **

**_With every move I die._ **

****

_Terror._

Nico clutched at his arm, shivering on the cold metal floor of some kind of container.

_Broken._

Nightmare visions flashed through his mind every time he closed his eyes. Blood seeped through his fingers, coating his aviator jacket and dripping onto his jeans.

No respite, no hope of saviour – his sword was gone, no ambrosia or pomegranate seeds.

Suddenly, blinding light filled his prison and two figures hovered above him. Nico whimpered as he made out the features – Percy, his expression distorted, ugly. He was laughing at him. _Freak._

The other was Annabeth – a cruel smirk on her face. She wound her body around Percy’s, kissed him.

_Loner. Outcast. Unnatural._

He screamed at them, raw and primal, to stop torturing him. To let him die in peace. But he agreed with every word that they hissed.

A tingle tear tracked down his face and the fight drained from his body – leaving him shivering and shattered.

_Alone._

                                                                                ***

**_His eyes burn like fire,_ **

**_His heart’s made of ice._ **

**_His every action a gamble,_ **

**_A roll of the dice._ **

 

Nico woke with a start.

His hand wrapped around the hilt of his black sword even as he blinked the nightmares from his eyes. Then he remembered, _no monsters here, just the pain_. The heart stopping, mind numbing, gut-wrenching _pain._

Scenes from the day before raced through his mind, taunting him.

A ragged band of fighters stumbling from the ruins of the House of Hades – triumphant.

The son of Poseidon – as beautiful as heartbreak in the evening light as he had laughed with Annabeth at the prow of the Argo II.

His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword once more but he knew it would do no good. His whole body trembled and he knew that his battle was not one that he could fight, the war was waged entirely in his mind.

And he wasn’t sure of he was winning or losing.

 

**_Inside his soul is shattering, breaking,_ **

**_Endless pain behind the smile he is faking._ **

****

                 Several hours had passed since they had left Croatia and the sky outside was dotted with silvery pinpricks of light. The lamp in his room swung gently from the ceiling.

 Nico had long since given up any hope of sleep - whenever he achieved anything that could be called rest, nightmares filled his head, jerking him awake. He had lost count of the number of times that he bolted awake, shivering and sweating.

His mind was in tatters, the cloth of his sanity ripped and ragged.

Shaking, Nico swung his legs out of bed, wincing as jolts of pain shot through him as his feet touched the floor. His body was still suffering from the poisonous landscape of Tartarus. The place was a trap – designed to wound and kill.

 As he padded across the room, Nico caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung on one wall. His face was gaunt and pale but it was his eyes that scared him the most.

Dark and haunted, deep shadows ringed them and any trace of hope had been ripped away.

_When there is no room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth._

That quote seemed entirely appropriate and highly ironic. Hundreds of thousands of monsters, back from the dead, roaming the Earth.

 And there was the other meaning, he supposed, that a son of Hades would look like the dead he commanded – fresh from a living nightmare and bleeding from a million soul wounds.

A thousand silvery scars covered his bare arms and legs - ambrosia and nectar could only do so much. He was surprised that he hadn't died from blood loss before the crew of the Argo II had come to rescue him.

Nico was dressed in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt that would have engulfed his thin figure even before Tartarus had stolen even more of his weight.

 

**_His strength is gone,_ **

**_His willpower weakening,_ **

**_His grief apparent in every word he is speaking._ **

****

He gave his reflection a humourless, lopsided smile. Scruffy, silky hair flopped over one eye – overgrown. Small pieces stuck up at random angles and generally did as they pleased. High cheekbones accentuated by his gaunt frame stood out sharply beneath liquid eyes framed by thick lashes.

 

**_Behind his mask you can see the starkness,_ **

**_His once-bright soul giving in to the Darkness._ **

****

The son of Hades was beautiful – yet he did not see it. Blinded by self-revulsion and shame, Nico Di Angelo could only see the worst in himself. A lifetime of pain had sapped his spirit and drained his soul. Leaving a small, ragged thing in its place – hiding from the light and putting up walls. A smokescreen, no, a fortress to guard against heartbreak – again. But that did not matter. Love had a very good aim and an eye for pinpointing weakness to ensure a clean kill. Love was _cruel._

Nico sighed, his head dropping onto his chest. Rubbing his arms to try to get some warmth into them, he headed back to his bed, back to the nightmares.

Sleep didn't come, but the horrors did. And it was all he could do to hide in the darkness as terrifying, paralyzing visions preyed on his mind.

 

**_They say true love hurts,_ **

**_Well, this could almost kill me._ **

**_Young love murdered,_ **

**_That is what this must be._ **

**_I would give it all to not be sleeping alone._ **


	5. Forgotten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly less dark than the others as it is set before Nico's ordeal in Tartarus. Enjoy!

* * *

**_And this is me praying that,_ **

**_This was the very first page,_ **

**_Not where the storyline ends._ **

**_My thoughts will echo your name,_ **

**_Until I see you again._ **

****

* * *

 

Nico turned around at the sound of his sister's voice, expecting her to be with Frank or something. His heart almost stopped as he took in emerald eyes, scruffy dark hair and a troublemaker's smile.

 For a moment, his brain froze. The image of the son of Poseidon etched permanently onto his retinas.  

Camp Jupiter was supposed to be his sanctuary, the place where no-one knew him, where they kept their distance – just the way he liked it. Well, the latter was a lie that no one needed to know.

All of this flashed through Nico Di Angelo’s mind before he regained his posture and held out his hand to Percy. No recognition found its way into the green-eyed boy’s expression. No flash of memory – and his heart twisted painfully.

 _He doesn’t even remember you_ , a small, cruel voice hissed in his mind.

Nico almost jerked his hand back as his skin came into contact with Percy’s. It felt as if shocks of electricity were lancing up his arm. Nico’s eyes snapped up involuntarily and he found his gaze met by a pair of sea-green eyes the colour of the ocean after a storm.

 _Stupid,_ he berated himself, _did he really believe that his feelings for him would have changed the second time around?_

* * *

 

**_I know a boy with a mask of ice,_ **

**_Cracked and splintered by the battles of life._ **

****

* * *

 

He swallowed before speaking and felt a small measure of pride in himself that his voice didn’t crack.

‘Pleased to meet you.’ His voice was rough, hollow. ‘I’m Nico Di Angelo.’

The older boy frowned, and Nico found himself staring at the crease that formed between his eyebrows. The evening sun loved his jawline – turning his skin the gold of fresh honey. As calm as he might have seemed, he could see that beneath the surface a storm howled - his expression changing as the clouds were blown in the wind and lightning flashed like bolts of silver thread sewn onto the dark, roiling cloth of the night sky. He was a force of nature, no one could stop him. He glowed with an inner light, a white-hot soul, brighter than any sun.

Perseus Jackson, the greatest demi-god of his generation – his first hero, his first…

His train of thought ground to a halt, refusing to even think about it. That part of his mind was impenetrable, a tangle of his darkest secrets, a minefield of self-loathing and shame. So much was his distraction that he almost missed the son of Poseidon’s next words.

‘I…I know you.’ Hope fluttered in his chest – a tiny bird slamming itself against the bars of its cage, sensing freedom, desperate to escape. But he quickly squashed it, refusing to let his heart get broken – again.

‘Do you?’ Nico put on his best innocent face. Well as innocent as a child of Hades dressed in ebony and chains could look. He glanced to his sister who stood beside the pair, looking worried. The younger girl just shrugged. Her eyes were electric as she looked up at him - like a cat's, they were a rare shade of hazel that sparked and glowed gold in the low light, luminous under the cinnamon fall of her hair.

‘Percy’s lost his memory.’ The daughter of Pluto seemed decidedly uneasy. ‘I thought maybe that you might have met other demi-gods like him…’ She trailed off as he glared at her.

Of course he didn’t know anyone else like Percy Jackson, be it mortal or immortal. The son of Poseidon one was of a kind. He decided to change the subject.

‘This story about Gaia’s army? You told Reyna?’ Hazel looked insulted.

‘Of course.’ Then Percy cleared his throat, dragging Nico’s attention back to him.

Damn, why the hell did it take so much _effort_ to pay attention when he was speaking?

A wave of self-hatred rose in his chest, burning his insides. He shouldn’t be attracted to the other boy at all. It was _wrong, unnatural._

 

* * *

 

**_But behind his frozen veil,_ **

**_Lies a heart of fire,_ **

**_And although he doesn’t show it,_ **

**_He burns with desire._ **

****

* * *

 

‘Who is Gaia anyway?’ Hazel let out a small whimper at the mere mention of the Earth goddess's name, but he didn’t glance at her. She would not thank him for giving away her secret, the reason that she wasn’t in the Fields of Asphodel at that very moment.

‘She’s she Earth goddess.’ He explained. ‘The oldest goddess of all. She’s in a deep sleep most of the time but she hates the gods and their children.’

‘Mother earth is…evil?’ Percy cocked his head to one side, a gesture that Nico found endearing and agonizingly frustrating at once.

‘Very.’ Nico closed his eyes for a moment. Blocking his sight from the sensory overload. For months he had lain awake at night, his mind filled with nightmares as to what had happened to the son of Poseidon. A thousand possible fates – each more gruesome than the last.

Then there were the other nights, when a very different kind of dream kept him awake. And in some ways, those felt more wrong than the nightmares. At least the possibility that Percy was dead was more realistic than the fantasies that his mind could create.

In the beginning he had thought that he was ill – fever dreams presenting themselves as sick, sick fantasies. Then they followed him into the waking world as well - until he could no longer look at the older boy without imagining the ivory curve of his back, the way that the water clung to his body as he stepped out of the surf. Until even the sound of his voice was enough the send shivers up his spine, the flash of his smile enough to set his mind spinning.

It was _wrong._

* * *

 

**_Stitch by stitch, he mends his heart,_ **

**_From where it’s been broken, ripped and torn apart._ **

* * *

 

Opening his eyes, he continued. ‘She had been trying to make a comeback since the Second Titan war during the summer.’ He glanced quickly at Hazel and he saw guilt flash in her eyes.

_She still blames herself._

‘She took a new husband, Tartarus, and gave birth to a new race of giants. I’ve heard reports of them being reborn. Last summer, the legion stormed Mount Orthrys in San Francisco. They toppled the titans' seat of power and I can only assume that Kronos…Uh, Saturn returned to the Abyss.’ Damn, it was hard to keep the Greek and Roman terms straight in his head. The people of Camp Jupiter couldn’t know about the battle of New York, about the Greeks. ‘Um, anyway – Gaia is trying to rise again, but that’s not the biggest problem.’

‘Nico and I believe that Gaia’s minions have captured Death and have taken control of the Doors of Death. Soon, no monster will be able to die _at all.’_

‘Death?’ Percy shook his head as though trying to dislodge water from his ears. ‘I though Hades-‘ Luckily, Nico was spared from answering by the arrival of Frank Zhang.

‘Hey!’ The Chinese boy grinned as he spotted Hazel. His sister scowled in return.

‘Did you go see Octavian?’

‘Yeah.’ Percy answered. Ruffling the back of his hair in a gesture that was almost lazy. The green-eyed boy stepped forward to greet Frank, moving with a catlike grace that was too fluid, too certain to belong to a mere mortal. And yet he was - a living legend, the most powerful half-blood he knew, but still entirely mortal. A surge of jealously washed over him. Even with no memory, no recollection of who he was – Percy Jackson was still so entirely _sure_ of himself, so sure in every movement. He would give anything to not doubt himself in everything he did. To be accepted, to be normal.

By the time he had pulled himself from his thoughts, Percy and Frank where two retreating figures on the hill. Hazel was staring at him curiously, like a puzzle she couldn’t figure out.

‘Are you okay?’ She couldn’t know. She would reject him, shun him. And Nico knew that he couldn’t bear to lose the only person who still cared about him.

‘I’m fine.’ He gave her a dry smile.

‘Who is Percy Jackson, really?’

‘A very powerful demi-god.’ Was all he could say without breaking down. As it was, images of the older boy whirled though his mind, taunting him.

‘Is he dangerous?’

‘Very, to his enemies.’ The dark banks of the Styx, a dark-haired boy slashing through a legion of the dead – lead by Hades himself. No one could touch him, nothing could hurt him. He was invincible. ‘But he’s on our side. You can trust him.’

 

* * *

 

**_So where you might see a scared little boy,_ **

**_I see a fighter who takes on the world._ **

 

* * *

 

But could he trust himself? Not even Hazel knew that he was planning a suicide mission. The darkest days were yet to come. The son of Hades dropped his chin to his chest, twisting the silver skull ring on his finger. The bones of the roof of Hades’ temple shifted restlessly.

Pain stabbed at his heart as he gazed out onto the horizon – he could still see Percy Jackson talking animatedly with Frank. It wouldn’t matter anyway, he didn’t even remember him and if he did, Annabeth was the one he cared about. Annabeth was the one he was in love with.

Nico Di Angelo was just a child of Hades.

_Bad luck._

 

* * *

 

**_Please don’t be in love with someone else,_ **

**_Please don’t have somebody waiting on you._ **

**_Please don’t be in love with someone else,_ **

**_Please don’t have somebody waiting on you._ **


	6. Last Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First I would like to say - yes, this chapter does contain an OC but no, she is not a 'Mary Sue' and just a filler character. As I know the general population of the internet's views of OCs. 
> 
> Second, this is just a bit of a filler chapter with not too many feels. 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

**_And you can see my heart, beating._ **

**_You can see it through my chest._ **

**_That I’m terrified, but I’m not leaving._ **

**_I know that I must pass this test._ **

 

Nico allowed himself a moment to grieve before he banished the memory from his mind. With the issue of the Doors of Death being opened, he had thought – selfishly – that he could bring Bianca back undetected, take her soul from the Underworld without Hades knowing.

_If only it were that simple._

His sister had chosen to be reborn. She had left him – the very thing she had vowed never to do.

Nico grit his teeth as he pushed himself back up from the rough bark of the tree – a wood nymph was giving him a dirty look from the braches above his head for gouging at the wood.

At least he had gotten something from his trip to the Underworld, another child of Hades, well, Pluto if you were being technical about it. She would be safe at Camp Jupiter, maybe not loved, but she would be safe. Gods knew she deserved a second chance at life. Hopefully she would learn to fit in better than he had.

 

**_Love is cruel,_ **

**_Love is not kind._ **

**_He will rip your soul,_ **

**_Shatter your mind._ **

****

Taking a deep breath, Nico Di Angelo pushed his dark thoughts to the back of his mind and brushed off his jeans. The grass in the Fields of Asphodel produced a strange sort of pollen that clung to anything and was a nightmare to get rid of.

He was at Camp to do a job, nothing else. He owed it to Percy to help him, to find the Doors, and with Thanatos incapacitated, there was only one person who could possibly help him.

Glancing through the trees, he spotted her now, striding quickly across the central green towards Cabin Twenty One. Her ever-present black rucksack bounced against her back as she walked.

Even as the Ghost King and a son of Hades, the idea of talking to _that_ girl gave him the jitters. Except he had to – if he wanted to find a way to close the Doors. He had to do something to keep his mind off the missing son of Poseidon, because down that way lay madness.

His stinging eyes reminded him that he hadn’t slept in a while. How long had it been? Two days? Three? He couldn’t remember. Maybe he would take a nap in Cabin Thirteen afterwards.

Shaking his head to try and clear some of the fuzziness, Nico strode across the lush grass of Camp Half-Blood, out of the cool shade of the forest and into the bright winter sunlight.

 

**_He will break your heart_ **

**_And laugh at your pain –_ **

**_The broken lovers,_ **

**_A madman’s game._ **

****

Mercy Morana only looked up at he stepped into her line of sight, a few feet from the steps of Cabin Twenty One. Eyes like blue fire blazed from under raised eyebrows, calculating and cold.

‘Di Angelo.’ Her voice was slow and rich, like maple syrup, and it set his teeth on edge. Even at sixteen, Mercy had only been at camp since October. The girl radiated an aura of darkness that chilled him to the bone.

‘I need to talk to you.’ Mercy nodded as if she had expected this and without another word, turned towards her cabin.

Across the other side of the lawn, a group of Aphrodite kids snickered as they saw the two teenagers together.

‘Hey! It’s the camp creepers! You two make the perfect couple.’ A snarl curled the corner of his lips and his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Nico hated the children of Aphrodite. They were silly, shallow and cruel – with the exception of Piper, of course – and one too many times they had come dangerously close to discovering his secret. In general, he avoided them as much as possible.

Mercy simply glanced at them with distaste.

‘Love’s children.’ She muttered before climbing the steps that led up to her cabin. The large building was elegant, built of soft grey stone. The Greek letter Theta hung above the entrance – polished black metal with an iridescent sheen to it.

Once inside, the older girl picked up a slim black book from a low table and flipped through it.

The cabin was sparsely furnished; a single bed with a black metal frame stood at the far end of the room, a dark, lacquered trunk at its foot. The Gothic, iron grey wallpaper matched the almost silvery wood that floored the room. Against the right wall, a bookshelf filled with all manner of journals and leather bound volumes stood next to a mounted cabinet. Behind the glass, various bottles gleamed, jewel toned – reminding him of what the children of Thanatos were. _Assassins._

Within this cabin were a hundred ways that he could die. Nico knew that she kept poisons and weapons stored here, from garrottes to stilettos, crossbows to swords. There were endless ways to deliver death.

And now, with her father imprisoned, Mercy Morana was the only person who could help him in his mission.

 

**_Love deals in whispered secrets,_ **

**_And revels in chances lost._ **

**_But loving someone so far out of reach,_ **

**_That is what Love savours the most._ **

 

He tried to swallow around the hard knot of worry and fear that had lodged itself in his chest – growing with every passing day that the son of Poseidon stayed missing. The nightmares had gotten worse too. Once Bianca had chosen to be reborn, her spirit had stopped visiting him at night. The monsters closed in again – tormenting his mind and stealing his sanity, bit by bit.

Fear held him in place; the daughter of Thanatos always made him nervous and while he didn’t fear Death – he would embrace it, to be honest – the mortals had far too many sayings linking the spirit of Death to that of Love. And Love was the one god he feared the most, out of all the Olympians, the only one with the power to bring him to his knees.

As she strode over to her bookshelf, the rucksack she wore shimmered in and out of focus until it was no longer a bag, but a pair of ebony wings identical to her father’s. The downy feathers gleamed in the low light, a hundred colours swirling and disappearing like the surface of an oil slick.

‘Not many know of this particular…aspect of myself.’ Mercy spoke without looking up from her book. ‘But then again,’ she closed the journal with a sharp crack. ‘You seem like you know all about secrets.’

Nico shifted uncomfortably. This was not the way he wanted the conversation to go.

‘You know why I’m here.’ His throat was as dry as the Sahara, every word raw and painful.

Mercy’s head whipped around and he could feel the full weight of her gaze as it burned through him. Anger blazed in her eyes, turning their colour from sapphire blue to liquid gold. Alabaster skin – so different from her father’s – was stark contrast to her obsidian hair, which rippled down her back until he couldn’t tell where tresses stopped and feathers began. A heavy fringe almost obscured her eyes. She was tall, towering over Nico as she shifted to face him. A silk shirt was draped around her slender frame – molten copper poured over lean muscle.

‘My answer is no, son of Hades.’ And her voice was deadly calm in her fury, the sound of life and death itself; sand slipping through fingers, the tick of an old brass pocket-watch, the sound of a life slowly drifting away. ‘To do so would be a death sentence, one from which even my father’s imprisonment could not save you.’

Desperation whispered in his ear, a wailing, agonizing cry of loss and pain. His heart raced hell for leather, slamming against his ribcage as he processed Mercy’s words.

No help. He had no other choice. He had to find the Doors of Death. Lives would depend on it – _Percy’s_ life might depend on it.

**_Love is cruel,_ **

**_He is not kind,_ **

**_Love is a monster –_ **

**_But certainly not blind._ **

 

‘ _You don’t understand_!’ A wave of freezing cold radiated out from his thin frame and for the first time in two years, Nico felt the full force of his temper – crushing and utterly devastating - telling him to fight, to eliminate everything and anything that tried to stop him. ‘You don’t understand.’

The daughter of Thanatos’ gaze softened a little as she regarded the broken boy before her, head bowed with the weight of silence, a lifetime’s worth of secrets and shame. But it was not her place to judge him, Death was unbiased, impartial. Nico Di Angelo was far too young to have a soul so old.

Alas, there was nothing she could give him to ease the pain, and she didn’t think it would go down too well with her father’s boss if she gave his son Tranquilla Morte.

‘The Doors of Death lie at the very heart of Tartarus. It would be suicide to try to reach them. Gaia’s forces guard the Doors – Titans, drakons, giants – the very worst of her brood.’

‘I have nothing to lose.’ It was if every word was a scar re-opened. There are no worse wounds than soul wounds, for they last a lifetime and the ghosts of pain can bring even the strongest of heroes to their knees.

‘Then I wish you luck, Nico Di Angelo.’ Mercy’s voice was sorrowful, filled with regret.

As he prepared to step back into the shadows, her parting words were salt rubbed into a wound.

‘Even though I am the daughter of Death, it is Love who is often the cruellest.’

Panic choked him as he realised that Mercy Morana knew his secret but reason whispered that she would take it to the grave.

****

**_Loving him is like trying to change your mind_ **

**_Once you’re already flying through the freefall._ **

**_It’s like the colours in autumn, so bright,_ **

**_Just before they lose it all._ **


	7. Trust Long-Gone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will probably be the last chapter in this series. I may do another at some point but for now, this is it.   
> Thank you to everyone who helped me by reviewing and just reading my work. Enjoy.

**_This is the last time I’m asking you this,_ **

**_Put my name at the top of your list._ **

**_This is the last time I’m asking you why,_ **

**_You break my heart in the blink of an eye._ **

 

Nico paced through his step-mother’s garden. He should have been gone by now, far away from the Underworld and his father. Far, far away from Percy Jackson.

 Except he couldn’t leave – why did he have to develop a soft spot for the son of Poseidon _now?_ Nico had spent almost two years burying his feelings for the dark haired boy but one glance from him and he melted. _Damn him._

_He’d had to._

Growling in frustration, Nico kicked out at one of the quicksilver trees lining the path, causing it to shake and several faceted rubies to fall from its branches. He swore in Italian and stepped out the line of fire.

But no matter how much he tried to imagine himself in some nice, dark New Orleans graveyard, Nico couldn’t bring himself to leave – not while Percy was lying in some dank cell in Hades’ palace.

He should hate him, but he didn’t. He had gotten his sister killed, but he had forgiven him. He made him feel things that no normal twelve year old boy felt, but he just kept wanting more – more of his smell, more of his praise, more of Percy Jackson.

_He couldn’t just **leave** him there._

With a sigh, Nico glared up at the obsidian palace that loomed over the Underworld. A great icon to misery and suffering.

 

**_The Son of Darkness walks alone,_ **

**_His gaze is ice,_ **

**_His heart is stone._ **

****

Resigned, he began the slow walk up to his father’s home.

_Damn you, Percy Jackson._

                                                                         ************

Panic tightened his chest. He should have surfaced by now.

_Too long. He’d been under too long._

The churning black river foamed over the banks, broken dreams sinking and resurfacing – ripped corsages, torn diplomas, tear-stained love-letters.

No sign of Percy, no tell-tale shock of unruly dark hair, no troublemaker smile just below the surface.

_Where is he?_

**_He dresses in shadows,_ **

**_And deals in lies._ **

**_Behind a mask of sorrow,_ **

**_His true self hides._ **

****

It was getting hard to breath, the black sand that made up the banks of the Styx sliced at his hands as he clenched and relaxed his fists, trying to take control of his emotions.

_He’d be fine, Percy Jackson always survived. He had to live. **Against the odds.**_

Would his body be left? Would he have to take him back to camp? Watch as Annabeth blamed him?

Listen as she cried over his lifeless form? The sharp knife of resentment cut through the haze of fear to twist his face into a bitter smile. Annabeth would never – could never – think that someone could do something as well as her. _Love Percy Jackson._

Nico sat back on his heels as an icy numbness began to settle over his body. He’d killed the son of Poseidon. His first hero, their only hope of winning this war.

So when the water at the edge of the Styx started to churn and boil, Nico did not notice, for his vision was turned entirely inwards, carding through his memories of the dark-haired boy. Far too many of them were tinged with resentment and something else – shame.

Yes, that was it; he was ashamed of loving Percy, revolted with himself. It wasn’t _right._

**_His hair is darker than midnight,_ **

**_But his eyes are black fire._ **

**_And under his porcelain skin,_ **

**_He burns with desire._ **

****

The black river exploded in an eruption of burning water and Greek demigod. Nico’s head snapped up, surprised, and he almost didn’t want to look, to have to check if he was alive. The son of Poseidon groaned and rolled over, blinking into the dim light of the Underworld.

‘Oh gods, Percy! Your skin, you’re hurt!’ Nico winced inwardly at how young he sounded but continued to inspect the older boy, hunting for any sign that he was injured.

Finding none, he rolled to his feet in one fluid movement to glare down at Percy.

‘I thought you were dead.’ Percy narrowed his electric eyes at him. His skin was slowly returning to its usual shade of ivory.

‘I thought you didn’t care.’ This time, Nico winced outwardly. Okay, yes, he deserved it but it still stung. He cared more than he’d like to admit about the son of Poseidon’s life. ‘Did it work?’

‘I don’t know.’ And his voice came out sharper than he’d intended. ‘How am I-‘

‘ _Percy Jackson!’_ Both boys snapped round to see an army of the dead careering towards them with that ruler of the Underworld at their head.

‘Let’s test it out then.’ And that wicked smile was back, the smile that had gotten him into so much trouble and broken so many hearts. Before Nico could object, the dark-haired boy was up and drawing his sword, charged headlong into the army of wraiths.

Riptide flashed as it sliced through the enemy, cutting down ghost after ghost. Shots were fired, blows taken and Nico’s heart jolted every time but nothing could touch him, he was invincible.

 

**_He practices strange magic;_ **

**_Blood and poison and bone._ **

**_The Son of Darkness walks alone._ **

****

Finally, when all that was left was smoking bones and a cloak of shadows, Percy returned to him. For several seconds, all Nico could do was stare as the older boy capped his sword.

‘I…I think the river thing worked.’ _Stupid._ Percy raised an eyebrow and Nico dropped his gaze to his shoes. What was it about this boy that made him feel so young and awkward?

‘I think you should stay down here, work on your father.’ His eyes snapped up in disbelief.

_He was going to leave him alone, after he had risked his **life** to save him. _

A wave of disappointment and shame washed over him. He had been stupid to think that Percy would care anymore for him just because he had grown up a little, had tried to make up for every hateful word spat in bitterness.

After all, he had Annabeth – daughter of Athena, California beauty queen, the girl he had travelled to the end of the world for.

‘You don’t trust me anymore.’ His voice was quiet, a small, fragile thing that spoke volumes. All of his resignation, his disbelief and numbness rolled into five meaningless words.

The look that Percy gave him said all of the words he didn’t say. He didn’t trust the young, dark son of Hades. He still thought that he could protect him, the stupid boy. Nico had lost more in the past few years than Percy Jackson had lost in his entire sixteen years.

Everything always turned out right for the son of Poseidon.

With a shrug, Nico Di Angelo turned and began his trek back to Hades’ palace, steeling himself for the trouble he was likely to get into. Maybe he wouldn’t get turned into a dandelion this time around.

He heard Percy calling his name from the banks of the Styx but he didn’t turn around.

If he didn’t need him, then Nico certainly didn’t need Percy.

 

**_Everywhere I’m lookin’ now,_ **

**_I’m surrounded by your embrace._ **

**_Baby, I can see your halo,_ **

**_And I know you’re my saving grace._ **

****


	8. Solace at Last

**_Heart beats fast_ **

**_Colours and promises_ **

**_How to be brave?_ **

**_How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_ **

**_But watching you stand alone,_ **

**_All of my doubt suddenly goes away somehow._ **

 

The aftermath of the battle was horrific, but Camp Half Blood had begun the slow healing process. Nico Di Angelo buried his face further into the uncomfortable infirmary pillow, trying to block out Mercy’s agonised whimpers from the bed adjacent to his.

The daughter of Thanatos had fought viciously against the attacking monsters and Roman legions but had been caught by a marauding Cyclops. The giant had attempted to rip her wings from her body before Clarisse La Rue had managed to decapitate it.

Even now, a week after the battle she was still in immense pain, and it was all Nico could do to listen to her agony.

He started at the sound of a soft murmur, soothing the dark girl and encouraging her to drink some nectar. The son of Apollo was on night duty and Nico had _no_ t been hoping for his rounds to take him past his bed. And _of course_ he had not hoped for him to brush his hand over his forehead when he thought he was sleeping, as he had the night before.

His form was still unsubstantial in the moonlight that poured in through the farmhouse windows, as if the shadows were trying to creep past the silver light, to swallow him whole and extinguish the light inside him that had so recently been kindled.

The only when he heard Mercy’s whimpers subside did Nico realise that he had been caught.

‘You should be asleep.’ Will Solace’s voice was disapproving, but there was no fire behind the rebuke.

‘Yeah, well. I’m a child of the Underworld-‘

‘Don’t give me that bull, Di Angelo.’ There was gleam in Will’s eyes. ‘You’re supposed to be resting. Doctor’s orders.’

‘You’re a combat medic, not a doctor.’ Nico replied, smirking. But his smug grin faltered as Will sat down on the bed, far too close to be friendly, but just far enough away that they weren’t touching. Adrenaline raced through his body, setting his heart pounding and resurrecting the undead butterflies that seemed to inhabit his stomach whenever Will was near.

 

**_Round and round the madness spins up –_ **

**_Back the way we came._ **

**_It takes a braver soul than I_ **

**_To play the Devil’s game._ **

Nico could feel the heat radiating from Will hand as it rested mere inches from his. His own fingers twitched involuntarily and he gritted his teeth and curled his hand into a fist.

‘Those werewolf scratches on your arms still look nasty.’ The son of Apollo’s brow was knitted in concentration as he inspected Nico’s wounds. The gashes were still raw and inflamed but were beginning to heal, becoming whole again.

He still slipped in and out of focus sometimes, and the nightmares still plagued him, but with each passing day in the sunlight, in the company of the other campers, Nico Di Angelo was rebuilding himself. Some scars would never heal, he knew, but he was coming to terms with himself, learning to banish the darker parts of his mind and nourish the lighter, innocent parts. Pieces of himself that he had not realised had survived the last few years until recently.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand brush his cheek, tracing the curve of a particularly nasty cut from a _cynocephali_ blade.

‘So you and Percy Jackson…’ Will breathed, as if Nico was a skittish horse that would bolt at the slightest provocation. As it was, he already wanted to bury himself under the covers and hide.

‘What of it?’ Nico’s voice came out sharper than he had intended. Harsh enough that Will pulled back and he found himself instantly missing the older demigod’s proximity. He felt his old walls of shame and pain begin to slam down and caught them, determined to never again become the creature of rage and darkness he had been. ‘I’m sorry.’ His voice faltered. ‘I used to have a crush on him I guess. Yeah, I’m….gay.’

It was the first time he had said it out loud. Gay. The word didn’t scare him anymore, he had learned it didn’t have to. It was part of who he was and he would no longer be ashamed of it. Reyna had given him the strength to believe himself, to hold him up until he was strong enough to reveal that part of himself on his own.

‘So am I.’ Will shrugged. ‘Well I guess not exactly. I’m bisexual, I like both.’ He winked, and suddenly the situation was inexplicably funny. A snort of laughter escaped Nico as he took in the strangeness of the situation.

Of all of the people in his life, it was gangly, sweet, _Will Solace_ who had finally prompted him to reveal his biggest secret.

 

**_Of dolls and dancers lost in love,_ **

**_It hurts because it’s true._ **

**_It is better to bring chaos_ **

**_Than to let it have its way with you._ **

****

It was if a hundred pounds of armour had been lifted from him. Nico felt so light that it was as if only thing that kept him tethered to the bed was the solid weigh of Will’s hand on his wrist.

The sharp sting of his injuries brought him back down and he hissed. The painkillers he had been given must be wearing off.

‘Here, have some of this.’ The son of Apollo broke off a piece of ambrosia from inside his medical pack. He lifted the godly food towards Nico but when the dark boy moved to take it, he pulled his hand back slightly. ‘Ah ah.’

Nico felt his face heat up as he opened his mouth to allow Will to feed him the ambrosia. The blond boy’s fingers grazed his lower lip slightly as he pulled away and something low in his belly tightened with anticipation.

The ambrosia melted on his tongue, tasting sharper than he remembered. It was a moment before he realised that he no longer tasted the gelato from his childhood, but the strawberries that Will had brought to him yesterday, picked straight from the field.

‘You probably shouldn’t have anymore.’ Will’s voice was a murmur, clouding Nico’s thoughts with desire and things he _really_ shouldn’t be thinking about.

To his right, someone whimpered in their sleep, from a nightmare or pain he didn’t know. Will turned his head towards the noise but settled back once they had quietened.

‘I should go check on the others.’ But his tone suggested that he would rather stay.

‘Yeah.’ Nico caught himself before he could bite his lower lip as his gaze traced the curve of Will’s spine, the way his hair flopped over his eyes. He could feel a blush creep up his neck for the second time in as many minutes. Will’s gaze caught his and suddenly his own coffee-dark eyes clashed with the other boy’s sky-blue ones.

Uncomfortable under the scrutiny, he glanced away, but Will Solace’s smirk told him that he had seen his desire, his momentary lust. He savoured the way he had glanced at him, appreciatively, like he was worth looking at. Like he wasn’t terrifying or revolting or intimidating. But with _want_.

 

**_When caution’s gone and madness reigns,_ **

**_The thunderstorms weep gold._ **

**_And the only way to find yourself,_ **

**_Is to forget what you’ve been told._ **

****

Will cleared his throat, startling him out of his daze.

_Puberty_. Nico thought with disgust as he attempted, unsuccessfully, to get his traitorous hormones under control.

‘I should go.’ Will restated, pushing himself slowly off of the bed. ‘I’ll come and see you tomorrow though?’

The last statement was a question, as if he was waiting for Nico’s approval. Momentarily lost for words, the son of Hades nodded shakily.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ His voice was hoarse and lower than he had ever heard it. With a final smile and wink, Will disappeared around the curtain, towards Mercy Morana who had begun to cry out in her sleep once more.

Nico waited until the count of five before he collapsed back onto the pillows with a groan, a stupid grin spread across his face. As well as making him feel some decidedly inappropriate things, being with the son of Apollo made him _ridiculously_ happy. Happier than he had been since Bianca passed away, since this whole Greek god mess started four years ago.

His heart was still racing ten minutes later, when Nico realised that he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night. Five minutes after that, he decided that he would not be able to drag his mind away from Will Solace either. So it was with desire in his belly and a grin on his face that Nico began to mend his broken heart, every stitch sewn with sunlight and laughter. It wasn’t just memories of Will that he used, although he was still in his thoughts, but his memories of shopping in the Buford Zippy Mart with Coach Hedge and his victory at the final battle. It was sharing strength with Reyna and finally coming clean to Percy. Teasing Frank and holding Hazel close. His first glimpse of baby Chuck and finally getting to redecorate Cabin 13.

It was a son of light that had mended the son of the Underworld, and Nico Di Angelo knew, for whatever reason, that there would be many more happy memories to be made as he grew up. He was still young, and while he had already experienced hatred and loss and pain and loneliness, he knew that some things were inevitable in life. He had also experienced love and lust and happiness and there would be plenty more years to learn more about the lighter side of himself. And for the first time in what seemed like forever, he was happy, and it was _bliss._

 

****

****

**_As someone told me lately:_ **

**_"Everyone deserves the chance to fly!"_ **

**_And if I'm flying solo_ **

**_At least I'm flying free_ **

**_To those who'd ground me_ **

**_Take a message back from me_ **

**_Tell them how I am_ **

**_Defying gravity_ **

****


	9. Won't Say I'm in Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to the long break between chapters; I have only just got around to reading the first two books in the Trails of Apollo series. Enjoy :)
> 
> First verse - Won't Say I'm in Love. Disney Hercules  
> Last verse - I wouldn't Mind. He is We  
> Verses in text - Soldatino (Nico's Lullaby). Paola Bennet
> 
> Disclaimer: All content belongs to the original creators. All characters, aside from Leah Moran, Alexandre and Valentina Dubois, owned by Rick Riordan.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you think about Leah Moran and Alexandre/Valentina Dubois - even though they're not characters from the original series - as I have been thinking about fleshing them out in my own little offshoot.
> 
> Drop me a PM or a review with your thoughts
> 
> Shadowheart x

**_(Who d'you think you're kidding)_ **

**_(He's the earth and heaven to you)_ **

**_(Try to keep it hidden,)_ **

**_(Honey we can see right through you)_ **

**_(Girl you can't conceal it)_ **

**_(We know how you're feeling)_ **

**_(Who you thinking of)_ **

**_No chance no way I won't say it, no no_ **

**_It's too cliché I won't say I'm in love_ **

 

‘That is _really_ unhygienic.’ Will Solace eyed his boyfriend with a mixture of disgust and horror as the son of Hades impaled several marshmallows on the sharp end of a broken tibia bone and held them over the campfire. ‘As your doctor, I feel like you should be listening to me.’

By way of reply, Nico Di Angelo looked the son of Apollo directly in the eye and shoved all three marshmallows into his mouth.

Immediately, his eyes bulged as the molten sweets burned his mouth. Smoked curled from his tongue as he spat the hot ball of half-chewed marshmallow into the fire.

‘Gah!’ He levelled a glare at Will. The effect would’ve been much more intimidating if he had not been panting like Mrs O’Leary after a game of ‘fetch the femur’. ‘Tha' was your fault!’

‘I _told_ you not to.’ Will rolled his eyes at his boyfriend, who was now furiously wiping at his tongue with the sleeve of his jacket. ‘And now you’re probably going to end up with some long-extinct disease as well as a burnt tongue.’

Nico paused long enough to flip him the bird before finally retracting his tongue back into his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to stick his tongue out at Will for _weeks_ without being reminded of this. They had only been dating for three months (well, three months, four days and seven hours if you were counting – which he _wasn’t_ ) and the son of Apollo had only found more ways to get under his skin since the day that he had returned with the Athena Parthenos.

****

**_Close your eyes_ **

**_I know what you see_ **

**_The darkness is high_ **

**_And you're in ten feet deep_ **

**_But we've survived more terrible monsters than sleep_ **

**_And you know I will be here, to tell you to breathe_ **

 

The dark-haired boy glanced over the campfire to where Will had wandered over to speak to his siblings. Adrian was warming up on his saxophone, getting ready to lead the campfire singalong. The warm metal of the instrument looked like molten gold in the firelight and Nico was hit with a sudden pang of longing for his half-sister – thousands of miles away in Camp Jupiter.

Since coming out to the son of Apollo, he had spent almost every waking moment in the older boy’s company but he still missed Hazel. Four long years had passed since Bianca had died, and now it was as if the daughter of Pluto had disappeared as well. Frank and Hazel hadn’t visited since the battle for Camp Half-Blood, and messages had been few and far between. Even Reyna had been silent since returning to San Francisco.

His mind wandered and the crackling flames brought his thoughts to the missing son of Hephaestus. He was going to _kill_ the scrawny Latino boy when he returned. Not only had he cheated his way out of his father’s realm, he hadn’t told any of his friends of his insane suicide mission to destroy Gaia and then fly off to rescue some damsel in distress.

Nico reached into his pocket and felt the familiar crinkle of the holo-parchment that Leo’s faulty message had arrived on. Ever since the day the letter had arrived at camp, he had kept it rolled up tightly in his coat pocket. Looking at it rekindled his anger at the son of Hephaestus. Will had called him an ‘edge-lord’ for it once, but he was yet to find out what it actually meant.

 

**_Tu sei il mio soldatino (You're my little soldier)_ **

**_La ragione per cui vivo (The reason I live)_ **

**_Non ti scordar di me (Don't forget me)_ **

**_Io veglierò su di te (I'm watching over you)_ **

****

He didn’t realise that he had been scowling at the campfire until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder. Six months ago, his first instinct would’ve been to flinch away from the contact – and then slice the hand from its owner. But now the son of Hades glanced up at Will Solace, his face freckled even this late in the year; a perk of being the sun god’s son, he supposed. He leaned into his boyfriend as he swung down beside him, letting him drape his arm over his shoulders and press his face into his hair.

‘Being an edge-lord again are we?’ He could feel him smiling against his hair. Nico pulled back slightly, not enough to break the physical contact (physical contact, he had quickly learned, could be _wonderful_ ) but just enough to meet Will’s sky-blue eyes. They were so different from the sea-green ones that had haunted his dreams for so long, but Nico found that he liked them better. For one, they didn’t look at him with a permanent expression of distrust and pity. No, Will Solace’s eyes always seemed to light up whenever her saw him; something that had initially been a great source of confusion for the son of Hades. He loved Will’s eyes.

Wait. _Love?_ Where in Hades had that thought come from? His heartrate jumped, pounding so hard against his ribs that he was sure that his combat-medic boyfriend would be able to feel it though his leather jacket. Since when was he in _love_ with the son of Apollo?

 

**_Stumbling lost; the last choice of all that you meet_ **

**_It's the cost of ruling those 'neath your feet_ **

**_Paths you've crossed, and trust you're trying to keep_ **

**_You're exhausted, listening for a voice that can't speak_ **

****

‘You okay?’ Concern laced Will’s voice as he tangled his fingers with Nico’s – ghostly pale against his sun-kissed skin.

‘Yeah.’ The son of Hades pressed a gentle kiss to Will’s temple, if only to mask his rising panic. He glanced furtively across the amphitheatre to where the twin children of Eros were seated. Usually, Nico would be first to blame Love’s son and daughter for any kind of emotional disturbance but Valentina and Alexandre Dubois were far too busy flirting with Mercy Morana to have caused his sudden predicament.

Ever since they had arrived at camp three weeks ago, Val and Alex had taken an instant liking to the daughter of Thanatos. Although the dark-haired girl seemed to have warmed up to the red-haired children of Eros, Nico avoided them as much as possible. He still hadn’t forgotten his run-in with their father in Croatia.

‘Look, Adrian is about to start the sing-along.’ It was a blatant change of subject, but Will just gave him a bemused look and went along with it. He knew that the older demigod would grill him about it later, but for now Nico was perfectly content to sit among the other campers and listen to his tone-deaf boyfriend yowl along to the usual campfire songs.

 

**_(Ma Nico, mia caro)_ **

**_Tu sei il mio soldatino (You're my little soldier)_ **

**_La ragione ho vissuto (The reason I lived)_ **

**_Non ti scordar di me (Don't forget me)_ **

**_Io veglierò su di te (I'm watching over you)_ **

 

                                                                                   ***

 

After the fire had died down and campers had begun to disperse, Will walked Nico back to Cabin Thirteen.

‘Got to make sure that you get home safe.’ The blonde demigod bumped his shoulder against Nico’s, grinning widely. The son of Hades rolled his eyes.

‘You’re a dork. I love you, but you’re a dork.’ Nico climbed the steps in front of his cabin, taking all three in one bound. It wasn’t until he reached his door that he realised Will wasn’t beside him. The son of Apollo stood frozen at the bottom of the steps, his expression similar to that of someone who had just been hit in the face by a frying pan.

‘What did you just say?’ His voice was soft, hesitant. Now it was Nico’s turn to freeze. His brain rewound through his last sentence. _I love you_.

 _Damn_. He hadn’t been thinking, hadn’t been paying attention. All he could think about was the glow of the firelight on Will’s face, the way that he had kissed him breathless after they’d won Capture the Flag last week and wondering if he’d do it again tonight. And now he’d gone and ruined _everything_. Again. What had he done? Will probably thought he was a clingy little child now.

The son of Hades was so busy beating himself up that he didn’t notice his boyfriend striding towards him. He was so preoccupied with the thought that Will did not feel the same way, that he failed to imagine that he might say it back.

 

**_So you run; through shadows you roam_ **

**_Seams undone by the love you thought you could own_ **

**_But he's just one of many that you might call home_ **

**_And maybe someday, the bitter will fade from your bones_ **

 

So, it came as an utter shock when the taller demigod grabbed him by the collar of his bomber jacket and covered his mouth with his. Surprise had Nico freezing up like a Medusa victim, but after a few seconds Will still hadn’t pulled away so he closed his eyes and fell against the son of Apollo. He wasn’t sure how long the kiss lasted for, only that at some point Will had pressed him against the door of Cabin Thirteen and tangled his fingers into his hair.

They broke apart at the sound of whoops and catcalls coming from several campers who had spotted them. Instead of yelling back, Will held Nico’s gaze; the intensity in his eyes was startling compared to his usual easy-going nature.

‘I love you too, Nico Di Angelo.’ His breathing was uneven and he knew that his hair must be even messier than usual from his boyfriend’s fingers but Nico felt as if his chest had been filled with helium.

‘I…um…yeah.’ Nico stammered, his brain too busy catching up with the events of the last minute to form a coherent sentence. He held out his hand for Will to shake, then ran his through his tangled hair, cursing himself for his stupidity. He finally settled for shoving both hands deep into his pockets where they couldn’t make him look any more stupid than he already did.

Meanwhile, Will was watching with great amusement as his boyfriend dissolved into a babbling, blushing mess.

‘Now that I know that kissing you is the most effective way to shut you up, I’ll have to do it more often.’ Nico managed the impressive feat of turning an even deeper shade of red as his boyfriend grinned smugly.

‘Is that a doctor’s order?’ The son of Hades asked weakly, his brain finally cooperating with the rest of his body.

‘I suppose it is.’ Will leaned down to place a gentle kiss on Nico’s cheek. ‘Goodnight Nico.’

‘Night, Will.’ Nico absently rubbed the back of his neck, the ghost of the kiss still lingering on his cheek. His gaze followed Will’s retreating figure before he realised that Mercy Morana was watching him from the porch of Cabin Twenty-One, amusement gleaming in her eyes as she leaned against her doorframe.

He gave her a quick nod before bolting into his cabin, running into the doorframe in his haste to escape the tall girl’s piercing gaze.

 

**_Eri il mio soldatino (You were my little soldier)_ **

**_Ora un principe oscuro (Now, a dark prince)_ **

**_Ma anche per te, c'è una luce (But even for you, there is a light)_ **

**_Che ad un'altra vita ti conduce (That leads you to another life)_ **

 

Mercy smiled to herself as she watched Nico Di Angelo stumble into his cabin. Love was often more painful than death at her father’s hands, but she thought that the sons of Hades and Apollo had found something lasting and pure. Gods knows he deserved it.

 

 

**_Forever is a long time_ **

**_But I wouldn't mind spending it by your side_ **

**_Tell me everyday I get to wake up to that smile_ **

**_I wouldn't mind it at all_ **

**_I wouldn't mind it at all_ **


End file.
